Forgotten and Damned
by bored-and-in-need-of-hobby
Summary: Hush Hush fan fiction. Re-imagining of book 3: Patch loses his memory instead of Nora.
1. Prologue

"You know the price."

 _"Yes."_

"Give the Angel his girl."

 _"I'll make you pay."_

"My friend, you won't even remember my name."


	2. Chapter 1

He noticed her again today. He had never been fond of stalkers, especially when they seemed to operate with a certain level of skill. She was always there, lurking. There was something about her that made him feel... uneasy. Granted, it wasn't uncommon for Patch to have admirers, but normally they were thrill seeking drug addicts or teen run-aways. This girl was different. Proper. Clean.

Taking a sip of his coffee, Patch stole another glance. She was small, skinny, plainly clothed and doing a pretty good job of acting casual. The first few times he'd seen her he genuinely thought it was a coincidence. He knew better now. While observing her nervously check her outdated cellphone, he wondered how long it would take her to approach him. He averted his gaze.

10:09

One more minute and he would give up. Part of him already had. He knew, deep down, if she was going to show she would be here by now. The summer was fading, and in its place rain was pouring down from the heavens. He tried not to take it personally.

10:10

Patch revved his engine. He never normally bothered with checking his mirrors, but he did so very carefully today. Just in case he saw her. As his last glimmer of hope was extinguished, he accelerated into the distance.

The bar was loud, smoky and full of unsavoury looking characters. Just the way Patch liked it. In the basement were a few pool tables, but no game was ever free. Smiling, he recalled winning a car from a disgruntled drunk one hazy evening. An incredible pain penetrated his thoughts, as it did any time he tried to remember what was missing.

"I was wondering when you'd show up here"

Patch looked up, probably too quickly as he felt the contents of his stomach twist uneasily.

"Woah there buddy. You're not driving tonight."

The man was unfamiliar, and in his state of confusion the only feature Patch could register was how tall he was. He came closer, and feeling threatened Patch stood up.

"Whooooo... Arghh... " He slurred, taking a moment to get steady on his feet.

The man grabbed him, and as Patch struggled he could vaguely hear something in the distance...

 _Shhh... Everything will be ok..._

And that was the last thing he remembered.

Pain. Sun streamed in through the floor to ceiling windows, disturbing his fitful dreams. The hangover of all hangovers. As he twisted and turned, he realised he was in his own bed. Patch froze. How had he gotten home? Who was the man at the bar? He groaned, crawled out of bed, grabbed his phone and started dialling as he wondered into the kitchen.

It rang three times. Voicemail.

"No you don't." Patch tried again.

Two rings this time. He heard the beep.

"We had a deal. Answer your phone. I'm not in a second-chances kind of mood." He hung up and placed his phone on the table in front of him. Sure enough, it started ringing.

"Where were you yesterday?" He demanded.

"Ok calm down, I-"

"I swear to god, if you tell me to calm down one more time you might not live to regret it."

"Right. Sorry. I'm having second thoughts about our deal..."

"Not an option."

"You don't even know what you're looking for, never mind if it's worth finding. For all you know the only thing missing from your memory is a passion for fusion cooking."

"What concerns me, Marcy, is that you _do_ know what I'm missing. And you don't seem to want to tell me what that is."

"It's for your own good, Patch."

"Oh, I highly doubt that." He hung up, bitter and frustrated. Marcy was not to be trusted, but he'd known that from the start. As they say, beggars can't be choosers.

Patch grabbed his keys. It was time to get some answers.


	3. Chapter 2

Patch was furious. The rain hadn't let up overnight, so a light drizzle followed him as he drove. Far too passive, Patch thought. If it was going to rain, he'd rather it rained with conviction. He wore yesterday's clothes: dark jeans, black shirt and a black leather jacket. In his pocket was a Swiss army knife, not that he needed it. Fallen Angels rarely needed weaponry to defend themselves, though most did carry some form of arsenal.

He pulled up into an empty car park. Bo's Arcade was noticeable quiet, but Patch had expected that. He got out of his car, walked up to the doors, pushed and recoiled when we met resistance from the other side. Locked.

Great, he thought. Just great. He had so many questions for whoever would listen. Who was the man who took him home last night? What was taken from him? Why won't Marcy help? Apart from her tendency to make life harder for those around her.

He turned to walk back to the car, and that was when he saw her. The stalker. Parked on the other side of the carpark. She hadn't been here when he arrived.

Something in Patch snapped.

He marched over to her car, channelling his anger through every step. The gravel was wet, and with each step he felt the satisfying contact between his boot and the ground.

Without warning, he swung open her passenger side door and got in the car. He had never seen her up close before, and he had to admit she had a certain beauty about her. Aside from looking utterly terrified, that is.

"You've been following me, young lady." Patch said, almost menacingly. "What's your name?"

She hesitated. "Nora."

 _Nora_. He searched his memory for any recollection, but was rewarded with one of his all-too-common headaches. "And why have you been following me… _Nora_?" She didn't seem scared anymore, just sad. There was something about the way she looked at him that concerned Patch. She looked honest, good.

She paused, contemplating her answer. "I'm not."

Not honest then, he thought. "Well we both know that's not true." The car was starting to feel warm, and Patch was growing annoyed. "I'll give you one last chance to tell me the truth before I _make_ you."

 _Now_ she looked scared. He could even see her eyes begin to well up. "Patch please-"

"How the hell do you know my name?" He was taken off guard. He was sure he'd never seen her before. Not in all his long life, not in this world. Who was she?

A single tear rolled down her cheek. "Because I know you." She squeezed her eyes shut, just for a second. Patch didn't buy it.

"I don't know what kind of game you think you're playing, but it's a dangerous one. You have no idea who you're dealing with." In a series of rushed movements, she brushed the tear off her cheek and wiped her hand on her jeans.

"I can't do this." The girl twisted the key in the ignition. "Get out." Patch was shocked, but stayed perfectly still. She was a puzzle, one he found near impossible to solve. But he wasn't about to let her leave. Not when she knew his name. " _Please._ " She whimpered, desperation flooding her tone.

There was silence now. Only the low grumble of the engine filled the void.

 _Heartbroken_. That's what she looked like. "Who are you?"

Nora reached over him and opened his door, brushing her hand on his as she did so. He felt a rush of ecstasy, and recoiled quickly.

"I said get out. I can't talk to you anymore." Nora's eyes were a waterfall of silent tears. He felt the urge to wipe them away, but caught himself.

Patch didn't move. This girl must know him; she knew enough to be afraid. What if she knew something about what had been taken from him? Patch slammed the car door closed, and turned to face the girl.

"You need to tell me everything you know about me."

She paused. After what seemed like a long moment of contemplation, she put on her seatbelt and started to drive.


	4. Chapter 3

They drove in silence, and Patch resisted the temptation to ask where she was taking him. He took the opportunity to examine her. She was slight, but had strong shoulders and facial features. Her hair look brown in this light, but under the glow of the occasional streetlight he could see a glimmer of red.

Patch expected the strange girl to break the silence, but she did no such thing. She seemed to be spending her energy on composing herself and keeping the car on the correct side of the road. Her phone sat on a little shelf under her dashboard, which he had only noticed because she couldn't go five minutes without glancing down, as if to make sure it hadn't jumped out and ran away.

She pulled up to a small house surrounded by fields and old out buildings. "Welcome to the farmhouse." She said almost dryly.

"And what is the farmhouse?" He asked.

She looked at him, sad again. "It's where I live."

She walked purposefully up to the front door and put a key in the lock. As she turned it, she peaked over her shoulder at Patch, who was still unsure. "You coming?" Without waiting for a response, she walked inside, leaving the door wide open. He waited.

Ah, fuck it, he thought. What exactly was a teenage girl going to do to him anyway?

He followed her in, and was pleasantly surprised with a relatively modern interior.

Nora moved towards the kitchen, and Patch followed. She pulled herself up onto the counter next to a block of knives. The look she gave him then was sure and confident.

"So what are we doing here?" Patch asked, trying and failing to hide his annoyance.

"You said you wanted to know everything." Her voice was monotone and dry. "This is where you first tried to kill me."

Patch was taken aback. "Excuse me?" If he had tried to kill her how was she alive. She was hardly a match for him. "You're lying."

"I'm not." She said simply. In one smooth motion she removed the largest knife from the block. "You were going to use this."

"I don't understand. How-"

"How am I alive?" She interrupted him. Patch was not accustomed to others having the upper hand. She looked directly at him, and slid down from the counter. She moved towards him, until she was so close he could have reached out and touched her. "You changed your mind." He could feel the electricity between them. What was it about this girl that made every nerve in his body feel on edge? She seemed ordinary, normal, unexceptional in every conceivable way.

He took one step forward, closing the gap between them. He could feel her breath now. "And why did I do that?"

She tipped her chin up to face him, her eyes full of hope, pain and longing. After a short while she turned around and put the knife back in its block. "I have no idea." She said quietly. "It was hardly your last attempt." Her back was to him now.

"Why then? Why did I want you dead?" He stayed completely still, trying not to distract himself with thoughts of this girl's affections.

"It's complicated." She turned back around. "Something to do with my heritage. And something to do with becoming human." She raised his eyebrows at him knowingly. Patch was in shock, but played it off.

"So you're aware of what I am?" She nodded. "And you still invite my into your home? You know the dangers." His tongue lingered on that last word, and he began to walk forward towards the girl.

"You don't scare me, Patch." Despite her words, she seemed to become increasingly anxious the closer he got.

He placed his feet so his boots were touching hers and looked down at her, their faces nearly touching. "Are you sure about that?" His words were a gruff mumble.

Nora closed her eyes and breathed in. "Yes." She exhaled. Patch was paralysed. He could so easily kiss her. But why did he want to?

"Who are you?" He whispered, angling his face downwards towards hers.

"I'm Nora."

He grabbed her waist and she gasped. He bent his lips down to her ear and whispered "Who are you _to me?_ "

She was breathing quickly " _Patch…_ " She lifted her hand to touch his face and he flinched. She quickly retracted her fingers and looked to the floor.

And that was when the white hot pain pierced through his skull and everything went black.


	5. Chapter 4

He awoke surrounded by familiarity. Black silk sheets lay underneath him, and the dull crowd noise from Delphic, inaudible to the human ear, hummed in the background. As his eyes fluttered open and he began to realise where he was, the shock began to set in.

Patch sat bolt upright, and his mind raced with questions, each as unanswerable as the next. How had he gotten home? What had happened after blacking out at the farmhouse? Had he passed out? Did Nora know where he lived?

He rolled over, only to feel something crinkling under his head. He reached behind and pulled out a sheet of paper with a phone number on it. He turned it over.

 _Call me if you remember – Nora_

He didn't waste a second. Having dug out his phone from his jean pocket, patch typed in the number with ferocious speed.

It rung twice.

"Patch?"

"Nora."

"You remember?"

Patch rolled his eyes. "No."

Nora hesitated. "Then what do you want?"

"You know what I want."

Nora sighed. "Delphic. Half an hour."

After hanging up the phone Patch found himself in a strange emotional state. If he wasn't well acquainted with himself, he could almost believe he was nervous. He threw on a black shirt and jeans before pouring himself a small glass of whiskey. The pleasant burn in the back of his throat comforted him as he counted down the minutes.

"So, why Delphic?" The park was relatively packed, despite the dreary weather and slight drizzle.

"It made sense in my head." Nora deflected casually, eyeing up a hot dog stand. "His name is Hank, by the way."

"Who?"

"The man who removed your memories." Nora had turned to face him, clearly scanning his face for a reaction.

"Who the hell is Hank?" Patch asked coldly.

Nora turned away and continued to walk further into the park "Hank Miller. Otherwise known as the black hand." Patch sensed she was holding back. The nerve on this girl.

"What aren't you telling me?"

Nora picked up a bottle of water from a stall and passed the old lady behind the counter a handful of change. "Nothing."

Patch grew irritated, but kept his cool. "Do you like roller coasters?"

Nora was caught off guard. "Do I- What?"

"Do you like roller coasters?" Patch repeated. When he got no answer, he added "Ride the Arch Angel with me." It came out as nearly a whisper.

Nora let out a nervous laughter "Definitely not."

"Why ever not? Don't want to be trapped in close proximity with me?" Patch said dangerously.

Nora glanced up at him. "The old you would really see the irony in this moment." She sighed.

Patch grew angry again. He turned to face Nora, directly blocking her path. "Need I remind you not to keep secrets from me Angel?" Her heart beat was racing.

Her face hardened. "If you must know, Patch, this is yet another place where you tried to end my life, so excuse me if I don't want to ride the exact same roller coaster that I nearly died on."

Shocked, Patch backed away and Nora stormed off towards the where they had come from. After a short amount of thinking time, Patch began to follow her.

Patch very quickly begun to catch up to Nora, but she continued to walk on with great determination.

"Ok Nora, if it's going to be like that you might as well tell me one thing." She glared at him. "If I have made so many attempts on your life, then why are you still here?"

She stopped, they had reached the road. "I don't owe you anything." She said coldly.

"You owe me everything!" Patch shouted. "You are the only one who knows the truth and you insist on hiding it." He grabbed her wrist, his actions enveloped in fury. "How the hell did I resist killing you?" He growled.

Nora's eyes welled up, and in one swift motion she pulled her wrist from his grip and stumbled into the road.

Right into the path of a speeding motorcycle.


	6. Chapter 5

Time stood still. The motor cycle was inches away from the girl. Patch's heart leaped out of his chest, and in a blind panic of superhuman strength he pulled Nora back towards him and into his chest. His Angel.

The world resumed at normal speed, and Patch reverted from his dazed, confused state. Nora looked up at him, her tears had started to flow, and her eyes were a worrying shade of red. He tightened his hold on her, and she buried her face into his chest.

"Nora," He whispered. "who are you?" He had started stroking her hair subconsciously. Nora sniffed, and broke away from his embrace.

She starred at him, contemplating, and wiped away her tears. She was embarrassed.

"Not here." She said, and led him towards his home.

"Do I even bother asking how you know where I live?" He asked when they closed the door behind them. He was very private about his home; he wasn't even sure that there was anyone still alive who knew it's whereabouts.

Nora laughed, still recovering from her tearful state. She sat down on his sofa.

"The Black Hand," She began. "rules an army of Nephilim." He repressed a shudder. It didn't sit well with him that an innocent girl new so much of his world. "Their aim," She continued. "is to eradicate your kind."

Patch stiffened. "Are they capable?"

"Not yet." She averted her eyes. "But they're getting there."

"This is about Cheshvan, isn't it?" It wasn't really a question. For centuries, fallen angels had been possessing the bodies of Nephilim. For centuries, they had captured, threatened and tortured an entire race. "I guess it's a reckoning of sorts."

Nora bit her lip. "There's one more thing." She said in a hushed tone. Patch narrowed his eyes.

"Hank Miller," She faltered, staring at the ground.

"Yes?"

"He's my farther."

For what seemed like a long time, Patch was silent. "Is that why I tried to kill you?"

Nora smiled. "No, neither of us knew back then. Hell, I didn't even know about _you_ at that point."

Then they were both quiet. Patch walked to the side of the room slowly, and drew his whiskey bottle from the cabernet. "Drink?"

"No, thanks." She replied. Patch, facing away from her, unscrewed the lid and drank from the bottle. He swallowed, and placed it down on the counter.

"I have one more question." He turned around. "Why did your farther remove my memories?"

Nora stood, pulling her grey cardigan tightly around her. She was still a little damp from the slight rain. "You volunteered them." She spoke unsurely. "Along with your wings."

Patches eyes widened. "I had my wings?" How did he get his wings? Was that even possible?

"Yes, the Arch Angels gave them back to you."

Patch was in shock. "Wait, what possible reason could I have for volunteering not just my memories but my wings?"

Nora's face flooded with shame. "You did it for me, I'm afraid." She noted his confusion and continued. "Hank had kidnapped me. He wanted to hurt you, but obviously you can't feel so…"

Patch's eyes narrowed. He moved forward, cornering her. "Did he hurt you?" He spoke softly, and a flurry of emotions crossed her face in a second. She nodded discretely. A deep, unquestioning anger rose in Patch. Why did he care for this girl? In the short time he'd known her she had only caused him problems.

Nora's eyes were still an unhealthy shade of red. "I'm only going to ask this once more." His words were steady and serious. He leaned forward, closing the gap between them. "What were we to each other?"

Nora inhaled sharply and swallowed. Very slowly, she tilted her face towards his and rose on her tip toes. Gently, she placed a hand on the side of his face, and this time he didn't flinch. Her touch was so delicate and light it would have tickled if he was capable of physical sensation. Before he knew what he was doing he crushed his lips to hers in a frenzy of passion. She returned his embrace with what seemed liked a wave of relief. His hands were on her now, pulling her body to his hungrily.

Eventually she pulled away, breathing heavily. "Has that answer your question?" She whispered.

Patch didn't answer, but instead swooped her up in his arms and carried her to his bedroom. "It has, Angel," He said. "It has."


End file.
